Chickens and Feathers
by Ku-chyan
Summary: Some days it works out and some days it doesn't....YuuRam drabbles
1. Beauty

Author: Ku-chyan  
Pairing: YuuriWolfram  
Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou.  
Word Count: 126  
Chiasmus #1: Beauty

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Beauty, Yuuri had learned, was a sneaky little thing. Sometimes it jumped right in your face, all smirky and smug and _look at me_- like thick lashed blue eyes with pouty pink lips and strands of disheveled gold.

Other times, most of the time, it hid behind murky filters of doubt and fear and -even though it's right there- you may never see it. Like a mass of stink on a canvas that covers **want need please please please Yuuri** or hurt and discomfort drowned in blinding jealousy. Yuuri had learned that beauty, the unmatchable kind that counted for everything, was often the hardest to see.

Spooning comfortably against the pale-in-pink figure beside him, Yuuri drifted off to sleep with one last murmur of ,"The beautiful Wolfram."


	2. Turning

Author: Ku-chyan  
Pairing: YuuriWolfram  
Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou.  
A/N: Thanks very much for the reviews!  
Word Count: 293  
#2: Turning

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During the first spring after the world officially becomes Yuuri's only world, Wolfram falls ill due to an infected wound and is confined to bed rest. Because he's the _Maou's fiancee_, he's confined to Yuuri's bed.

Sometimes Yuuri means to complain that he _didn't mean to get engaged_ and _we're just friends_, but the maids and Conrad and Gwendal have such expectation in their eyes that he can't. The nights in the king's chambers become filled with squabbles and quarrels, arguments over petty things that usually end with Yuuri sleeping on the floor willingly.

They're not in love.

Wolfram's eyes are accusing. He's stopped calling Yuuri a cheater, simply rests his cheek against Yuuri's pillow and gives the Maou a look that makes him want to scream.

Suddenly the leaves fall and crumble beneath Greta's hands, her child smile the only thing that can make Yuuri smile. There's a fierce anger in Yuuri, a dissatisfaction that grows each morning. One night they fight, the prince and the king, and Wolfram falls under a weak, halfhearted shove by the ever pacifistic king, knees and nails digging in the floor as he pants and gasps before he collapses. Yuuri is terrified.

The paperwork becomes less. Expectation becomes some kind of pity that Yuuri doesn't understand. Conrad is a constant by his side from the time he leaves the hallway his bedroom is located in to the time he walks back in. Yuuri has learned which days of the week to walk slowly, which days to take his time so he never runs into the healer on their way out.

Wolfram still grumbles and glares with half-lidded eyes, but Yuuri only smiles and nods no matter what. He swears to himself that they'll never fight again.


	3. Leads to Another

  
Chiasmus #3: Leads to Another

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Yuuri had decided that the pink nightgown had to go. It was bad enough to be haunted by the evil silk apparatus during his waking hours, but it had now followed him into the realm of dreams. 

Every night it was _porcelain flesh revealed inch-by-inch_ and _the rustle of fabric interlaced with soft pants_ and _the jolting sensation of cool material brushing him as the warm body beneath squirmed in delight_

Finally, after weeks of torture that left him twitchy and moody and shoving his feet into his pajamas with the displeasure of someone who looked forward to anything but sleep, the sight of the now familiar pink clad figure gliding past him and toward their bed made him snap.

"Take it off!", under the now confused emerald gaze, Yuuri pointed to the nightgown angrily," Just take it off!"

And as the liquid silk pooled to the floor around feminine ankles, Yuuri earned himself a set of dreams worse than the last, in the best way possible.


	4. Enjoy It

Honestly? I sorta forgot this story existed. Oops. But hey, I wrote another chapter as soon as I remembered!

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Wolfram is beautiful . Almost too beautiful for his own good. It's genetics. Of course his mother passed on beauty to all her children, but it is this beauty combined with the grace and elegant features of the elder Lord von Bielefeld that make the distractingly good looks of Wolfram.

The hair, the face, the eyes—it's a palette of perfection that draws suitors and admirers from miles, all hoping and wishing for the prince's time, even just a glance, in spite of this blonde's infamous explosive temper in the face of unwanted affection. It seems like everyone wants Wolfram ,except the man who already has him.

The Great Sage, Murata Ken, looked out of the grand windows in the Maou's office. Below, in the courtyard, a familiar, regal blonde shook his fist at a row of blue-clad soldiers. As if his anger would affect them. They were, as always, mesmerized by him.

From Murata's vantage point, the sun cast a brilliant glow around the young mazoku.

"Yuuri?" Murata asked casually. The young king, tugging at the stiff collar of his customary black uniform, shifted away from the huge pile of documents on his desk.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think…" Murata asked, not taking his eyes from the courtyard."…that Wolfram is beautiful?"

"Ah." He could hear Yuuri shifting around, uncomfortable, as he usually was with the subject. "Well, of course. I mean, he is." The king creaked out of his large chair and approached the window. When Murata looked over, the ruler's face was bearing a closed expression as he watched his fiancée. Yuuri licked his lips. "And he just keeps getting more beautiful, doesn't he?"

"He does." Murata agreed. They both watched the prince fluidly conjure a fireball. For a few seconds his frame was almost too bright to see. "And everybody's noticed. They're scrambling over themselves to get his attention."

Yuuri's expression darkened. With time his features had matured, and when his face became shadowed like that he looked more like the Maou of Justice and Anger than ever. "I know." He muttered.

Murata rolled his eyes. "You're lucky he's waited this long, Shibuya. It's been _years_."

"Yeah." Yuuri looked away.

"If you don't hurry up and claim him for real, someone else will. And you'll have to find yourself another fiancée."

The sage didn't particularly enjoy hurting his friend, but the flinch that crossed Yuuri's face was reassuring in a way. It meant the king wasn't waiting around because he actually didn't like his blonde companion, as he so often insisted in his youth.

Down below, one of the soldiers pointed up to their window, and Wolfram turned to look. It was just too far to see, but Murata imagined he was smiling. Happy to have his king's attention. The prince raised a hand and waved.

Yuuri waved back, a smile creeping across his face. "You're right, Murata. Of course." He pushed the glass pane of the window out and leaned forward to yell "Good morning Wolf!"

Murata stepped away from the window as Wolfram yelled back something along the lines of "What do you think you're doing, wimp?" He hoped Yuuri would really think about what he said, instead of dismissing their conversation as he had every time before. Or someone really was going to snatch Wolfram away from him.

And he couldn't promise that it wouldn't be himself.


End file.
